Petyr and Sansa - Another Game of Thrones Fanfiction!
by emmakate22
Summary: When Sansa arrives at the Eyrie, Lysa and Robin aren't there, which leaves Petyr and Sansa to themselves. But when Sansa's stomach starts to swell, and Lysa soon to return, what will they do! Pregnancy/romance Petyr/Sansa I love constructive criticism, and reviews! So make sure to suggest a storyline you would like me to write!
1. Chapter 1

I would just like to point out that I do not own any characters in this fic, all credibility goes to the great George R R Martin!

Also, the lemon scene in this is partly the same as one in my other fic, so apologies to anyone for that! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, and leave comments and all that jazz! Love always xx

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Chapter One - **Arriving at the Eyrie**

Her hands were cold, as she walked through the ankle deep snow. Small pieces of ice floated around her, as she walked toward the garden, now covered in ice. Sansa's beautiful auburn coloured hair hung low around her face, contrasting well to the outside, and warming her flushed cheeks. She had just arrived at the Eyrie, made a perilous climb to the top of the mountain, and was finally free; Cersei could not catch her now, though her heart wept for her husband. The look of utter shock was the last thing she saw of him, and would surely haunt her in her dreams.

Tyrion was a good man, she thought to herself. Yes, he had married her, even though she didn't want to, but at least he consummated her marriage with delicacy. It had hurt of course, but her deflowering was handled well, he was slow, and made sure not to hurt her. That was what hurt Sansa most, the fact that he had been nothing but kind to her, yet now was to receive a sentence worse than death. It was not fair.

Her breath caught in her throat as she sat down on one if the seats, covered in ice. Winterfell, she thought, such a resemblance. The time flew in the garden, and soon she found herself recreating Winterfell, but miniature version, and in the snow. Her fingers prodded the ice sculpture, and she almost missed the footsteps approaching. Sansa was so caught up in attempting to make the bridge of the castle, she didn't notice Lord Baelish standing next to her. He crouched down wordlessly, and began to help her.

His hands were warm, the complete opposite of her own, and she began to wonder about the man next to her. Sansa's thoughts were cut short as he began to speak. "The weather is freezing out here, and I can't contemplate as to why you want to stay out here much longer. Come inside, and I shall start a fire." He said huskily. They both stood, whilst Petyr snaked his arm around her waist and guided her through the heavy wooden doors. She liked his touch, for all the things people said about him, Petyr was one of the few people whom she felt completely safe with.

"Where is Lady Lysa? I have not seen her since we arrived, and surely it would not be proper to reside here, without meeting the person who is in charge of it?" Sansa asked, peering up at him through heavy eyelashes. He looked down at her as they walked through a long corridor, "My lady will be absent from us for the next two moons. She is attending business at Riverrun, which means that I am acting Lord on her behalf." He said plainly, though something in his grey-green eyes made Sansa get the impression that he was happy about it.

They arrived at his solar, and he let go of her to open the door, gesturing her forward. His solar was bright, and had windows in the ceiling, which allowed Sansa to breathe fresh air, and see without the help of candles. There was a heavy oak table in the centre of the room, with large backed chairs that stood around it. At the far left corner were cabinets filled with papers and scrolls alike, and next to it lay a desk; filled with ink and quills, as well as spare pieces of paper. Sansa assumed that was where Petyr spent most of his time.

A roaring fireplace grabbed Sansa's attention, it emitted brilliant orange flames, and the coals glowed a bright red colour. It was in the wall, at the end if the table, and surrounding it were huge sofas, filled with gold and white coloured pillows. The room all in all was spacious and comfortable, Sansa hoped she would spent a lot of time here, especially with him.

Petyr walked to the table and held out a chair for his guest; the one to the right of the head. She walked toward him, and then noticed all the food on the table. There was every type of fruit laid out, accompanied by cheese. Both dry and sweet crackers lay amongst, and to Sansa's delight, in the middle was a tray of the most decadent looking lemon cakes she had ever seen!

Petyr pulled out a chair for himself, and sat down at the head of the table; close to her. A maid entered the room, Sansa imagined that she could be no older than 11, as she began to pour the two some spiced wine. She took hers thankfully, and drew the goblet to her mouth, sipping deeply. By the time she put the cup down, her plate was full and the small girl was no where to be found. Sansa looked up at Petyr, who had a smirk plastered on his face. "Try not to get too drunk before the sun goes down." He said with humour in his voice, which caused Sansa to blush deeply.

She placed her cup down, and began eating her food. "What shall I do, now that I am here?" She asked Petyr, who was sipping at his own goblet. "Well, Lysa is absent, as is her sickly son Robert. So, for now you will be free to do as you please, but when they return, you will be asked to look after the boy." Sansa grimaced, to which Petyr replied "It shan't be too bad, I thought you were a maternal woman."

"I do love children, Lord Baelish, truly. But I am told that Lord Robin is quite a handful, what if I fail?" Petyr noted the worried tone in her voice and placed a hand on top of hers, which lied on the table. "Sansa, you are very beautiful, and I am sure that you are capable enough to handle Robert, but if not, your motherly instincts will tell you what you need to do. And please, call me Petyr."

Sansa smiled at him, and held his hand, as he traced circle on the back of hers, with his thumb. "I haven't thanked you yet, for saving me. You risked so much, when I know you would rather be doing other things." Petyr moved closer to her. "You have been so kind to me, and the thought of how much you could have lost hurts me dearly." She said, not one part being a lie.

He looked at her, and expression written on his face, though Sansa couldn't tell if it was happiness, worry, or something else. "You are right." He said, and the look on her face, one of clear confusion pushed him forward. "About what you just said, I do want other things, and what I would rather be doing, is this..." He grabbed the back of her neck, and his other hand snaked down to the small of her waist. Petyr's lips crashed against hers, and she stiffened, but almost instantly reacted. She grabbed his shoulder, and with her other hand, pushed herself up using the corner of the table. He stood with her and now that they were up, he pulled her to him, there bodies pressing together.

Her lips worked against his, as he fought to dominate. Sansa's lips opened to allow Petyr's roaming tongue to enter; He tasted like mint and cinnamon, and she tasted like honey. A moan could be heard, and Petyr responded to it, pushing her against the wall. He refrained his kiss, and looked back into her eyes. They were bright blue, completely the opposite of his penetrating orbs, filled with lust. Sansa held no sign of struggle, or worry, so Petyr continued his ministrations. He held both hands on her waist, and his form loomed over hers, kissing passionately. His hands gently moved backwards and sat on her behind. He squeezed her cheeks, to which she replied by pressing her pelvis forward, and letting out a loud groan.

She felt hardness pressing against her thigh, and smirked at the thought of it. One of Petyr's hands moved up, and groped her right breast, while the other steadied himself on the wall behind her. He let out a deep growl as he felt her nipples harden. Sansa moved her hand over his chest, and slowly started to move further south. She slide her hand down into his breeches, and cupped his hardness. Petyr suddenly groaned and his breath hitched; involuntarily his hips jerked forward, and he looked deeply into her bright blue eyes.

"Sansa, are you sure you want me to take you?" He asked, though it was clear how much he wanted to. "I know everyone is aware that Tyrion and I never consummated the marriage, however, that was a lie." Sansa blushed. Petyr stopped what he was doing and looked at her intently, "You let him be your first? No matter, I will show you how it should feel like."

Suddenly, he picked her up and carried her bridal style through the solar door, and into his rooms. When he arrived at his four poster bed, he threw her (rather unceremoniously) onto the bed, and climbed in on top of her. He looked at her on the bed, with glazed eyes, it was plain how much he wanted her. He unlaced his pants and let them fall to the floor, now left in just his underpants. Sansa felt very special, as his manhood was tented - all for her! He crawled onto the bed and laid on top of Sansa, one leg on either side if hers, his hands supporting himself above her head. Petyr leaned down, and gave a chaste kiss, which became more passionate each time he gave one.

Sansa's hands found their way into his back, pulling him closer. As his tongue worked in her mouth, he reached down and unclad per her bra with one hand. She retreated her hands and sat up, but before she could cover herself, Petyr grabbed her wrists and whispered in her ear "Don't, your beautiful."

Sansa put her hands down, and Petyr looked at her, his expression was one of absolute pure amazement. He grabbed the back of her head with one hand and laid her back down, while the other hand pressed on her stomach. He was back kissing her again, never getting enough. His hand roamed up and massaged her left breast, she moaned and arched her back into him, and he smiled. He flicked one of her nipples with his thumb "Oh Gods!" She yelled, and Petyr looked into her Tully blue eyes. "Would you like more?" he teased, and all Sansa could do to reply was moan. He traced her stomach down to the top of her panties, to which she opened her eyes wide, looking worried. "Don't fret, my dear beauty. You are safe with me." She rested her head down on the pillow again yet wasn't quite as comfortable as before.

His hand slipped into her knickers and he moaned as he felt her wetness. One of his fingers ran along her slit, and stopped at her hard nub. "Dear Gods!" Sansa screamed and held onto Petyr tightly. He was relishing in the feeling if being able to make her feel this way, and loved how she clung to him. His fingers started tracing circles on her clit which elicited more loud moans, and Sansa started rocking her hips into him.

Once she was wet enough, Petyr removed his hand. Sansa stopped stroking and Petyr stood off the bed, removed his underwear and stood there. As naked as his nameday. Sansa stared in awe, "Your huge!" Petyr just smirked, and laid back on the bed. He gently removed her panties and they were both completely naked. He pressed his warm body on top of his, and started to kiss her. At this point, it was purely need that drove the kisses, and once it was too much, he whispered in her ear "Are you ready to be mine, my beautiful Sansa?" "Oh, dear gods! Yes Petyr...take me!" Was her needy reply.

He crawled down her body, hands leaving prickles in her skin, wherever they touched. He spread her legs open, and placed himself at her entrance. Petyr stretched back up to Sansa's level and looked into her eyes, flicking her clit as he watched her. "Are you ready?" "Gods..Yes, do it!"

With another look into her eyes, he thrust his hips forward and plunged into her, moaning at the feeling of being inside of her. However that moan was drowned out by Sansa's heart wrenching scream. She lifted her head, and buried her face into his shoulder, and hugging his back so tightly, it was sure to leave a mark. He embraced her, held her, for he knew the pain she was in and it was all for him. She was his, had given herself to him, her innocence, there was no better thought than that. She gently let go, and fell back onto the pillow, he held her cheek as she adjusted to his size. "My dear, are you okay?" "Yes, you are with me, my love." At that reply, Petyr started to move inside her, in and out until Sansa's whimpers because moans of pleasure.

She struggled to find her voice, "Harder," she said and that was all it took. Petyr grabbed her waist and filled her with him, right to the hilt. "Ohhh... Fuck!" He yelled, at finally being fully inside her. His yell was met with a moan, as there was no more pain in it for Sansa, just pure ecstasy. She moved her hips up, to join his thrusts, and Petyr placed his elbows on either side of her face, above her shoulders. He looked into her eyes, and could tell how much pleasure there was, for he felt it as well. He began a rhythm, thrusting in time. Petyr was close, he could feel it, however he wanted Sansa to release before him so he moved his finger down and started rubbing her sweet spot. She was trembling and moaning already, so when the touch came, she gripped his back, her nails digging in. "Ahhh" his thrusts became erratic.

The pleasure finally taking over her, she came to her climax. "PETYR!" She screamed and clenched her walls around his throbbing member. At hearing her name, Petyr grabbed her hips and slammed into her, thrusting hard and fast. "Oh, Petyr, oh Petyr..." She mumbled, which was heaven in his ears. Petyr knew it was him making her cum, his name she was shouting, and that was what brought him over the edge screaming "Sansa!" as he filled her with his hot seed. They both jerked in their orgasms and Petyr pulled out, he lay down next to her, lying on his side. Sansa lay on her side as well, staring into the depth of Petyrs eyes, she smiled an so did he.


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa's chest was rising and falling heavily as Petyr awoke, and he took the time to marvel in her beauty. Her hair was splayed over the pillow, and the sheets which entwined in her long limbs slipped, a light pink nipple emerging. She really was perfect. There we're thin silvery lines which marked her torso, even with those marks and blemishes, she was the definition of the perfect woman. Sansa started to stir, and soon stretched like a cat, her hand which had been in the air, landed on Petyr's chest; sprinkled softly with silvery-black hair.

"Good morning Sweetling," Petyr said gently, and Sansa replied with a cheeky grin. "Good morning it is," she agreed, then sat up, and swung her legs around the edge of her bed and stood. For a moment, Sansa was unaware of her nudity, until she looked at Petyr, who was staring intently at her. She turned bright red, and snatched the blanket, walking towards the end of her bed and covering herself at the same time. "Why would you hide dear Sansa? Have you forgotten about last night?" Petyr asked cheekily.

She walked towards the door to the bathing room, and stopped just before. Turning around, she smirked and said huskily, "I could never forget." As she was speaking, she turned around, her back facing him, and dropped the sheet; showing him her beautifully formed ass, and ivory coloured skin. She walked casually forward and turned the corner, though not before seeing Petyr jump out of bed and sprint after her, his manhood already tented.

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They sat at the table, eating a breakfast of honeyed porridge, and drinking spiced milk. She was almost finished with her meal when Lord Baelish started to speak. "My Lady, Sansa, we need to come up with a plan to tell Lysa when she returns. We can't have her thinking that we are up to anything." Sansa pushed her bowl away, and sat up straight, her mind racing. "We could say that we are related, and that you needed to bring me here for protection?" Petyr eyed her, and began to wonder to himself, 'maybe she was more cunning than she looked.' "Yes, that sound legible. You could pass as my daughter, and that way the intimacy we share won't look odd. You shall be called Alayne, after my mother, and are my natural born daughter."

Sansa nodded, and began to stand up. "Where are you going off to now?" He queried. "I fear that I must walk through the gardens, it is where I need to be right now." She said, with no hint of hostility. "I shall be back within the hour, until then" she kissed him on the cheek, "goodbye Petyr." And she walked through the side doors, making her way to the Godswood.

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Petyr found Sansa later; she was sitting in his solar, stitching a part of a violet coloured dress, and humming to herself. He walked in, and sat on the chair opposite to her, warming himself by the fire. Sansa looked up and could tell something was wrong, so she put her needle and thread down and took his hands into hers. "What is wrong Petyr?" He looked into her eyes, not sure how she would take the news. "I have to leave," he said, but before she could say anything, he continued. "The Lady Lysa has requested my presence at Riverrun, to ensure the date of her return. She is scheduled to return later than planned, but misses my person."

Sansa blinked, and stated simply. "How long?" "I plan to be back in two moons, if the weather fares." Sansa looked dumbstruck, "Your leaving today?!" He sighed, "I leave at midday, with Royce and his men." A small smirk appeared on Sansa's face. "We still have a half hour, I can't imagine what will fill in the time." But before she could finish, Petyr grabbed her, and carried her into his room; it was the last time they would do this for two moons, better make it count.


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa was bored, there was no other word for it. Each day, she would wake up alone in her bed; without the warm body of Petyr to comfort her. But most of all she just missed talking to him. Of course, there were maids, and singers, and other residents of the Vale; but she couldn't make herself known to them, not before meeting her aunt.

She would then bathe, get dressed, which now took a lot longer, since she didn't have a handmaiden. She would then break her fast in either her solar, Petyr's, or the High Hall; if it was empty. Her days then consisted of stitching, cleaning, praying and reading. She thanked the Gods that Petyr had given her access to his library, she would've go insane if he hadn't.

It was the day before Petyr was due to return, but that was not what was making her shake. Sansa had become noticeably tired, and her breasts had swollen to double the size of her normal ones. But the thing that worried her most, and the biggest clue to her, was that her moons blood hadn't come in two moons. Sansa knew what was happening, but she tried to deny it. She was only 10 and 7, too young for the inevitable to happen. So she pushed the thought to the back of her mind, and continued to see the dress she planned to wear to greet Petyr.

Her seams were perfect, as usual, but that was the only thing straight in her life. Her thoughts kept bubbling up to the surface, afraid it might burst out like a volcano. Sansa couldn't handle the confinement of her room, so she abandoned her finished dress, and went for a walk to the Godswood. She sat at one of the benches, luckily no snow inhabited the Godswood, and she was plenty warm. Sansa prayed, she did now wish for it not to happen, just wished that everything would be okay. Her prayers were cut short when a raven arrived. She plucked the letter from its foot, and unraveled it.

_Dearest Sansa,_

_Luck has favoured me on my travels, and I will be arriving tonight, just before twilight. Do not come to greet me, as I don't want to cause a squander. I shall meet you in my solar at midnight, until then._

_Petyr_.

Butterflies invaded her stomach, and threatened to remove her meal of which she just consumed. It was already half 9, so she walked slowly towards the bathing room. This time, she took effort to scrub herself and her hair, placing it into an intricate braid which flattered her neck. She dressed herself in her newly made outfit, and noticed that it accentuated her breasts heavily. It also cinched at the waist, which made her look very feminine. The brilliant shade of lilac, accompanied her hair, and brought out the blueness of her eyes. Sansa felt ready.

She still had a half hour before he was due to arrive, so she walked the long way to his solar, taking in the beauty of the Eyrie. She opened the door to his solar, and started to fill the table with various items of food, then stacked another log of wood on the fire; making the room nice and warm. She sat down at the table, and began to read a book, but no matter how many times she tried to read the words, all she thought of was Petyr.

The door creaked open, and in walked the man she had just been talking about! He put his bag down at the door, and smiled when he saw her. She stood and walked around the table, Sansa couldn't help but notice the way he checked her out, and loved the way his expression turned into one of shock as he looked at her bust. She just smirked, but underneath, she was worried. Would he suspect? He took her into his arm and kissed her deeply, each kiss becoming more needy. He picked her up, once again, and took her to his bedroom. Sansa had a feeling that she would get no sleep that night.

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READ THIS!

Hey there guys! I hope you are enjoying the story so far, I am having heaps of fun writing it! However I do love review, in any shape or form ( hint, hint;) and I would really appreciate if you could review me a storyline which you would like me to write! Anyway, enough nagging! The update for this story I scheduled for tomorrow, sorry about the wait, but I do need my beauty sleep *insert sarcastic laugh*

Alrighty then, I will see you all tomorrow! Bye bye xx


	4. Chapter 4

In the depth of Petyr's room, Sansa slowly unlaced her bodice. She looked at Petyr, who was lying on his side, and staring at her lustfully; as she wove her fingers in between the material, she slowly walked towards him. He started to move towards her, and quickly stood. As his feet met the ground and his hands grabbed her waist, turning Sansa around and pushing her on to her back, leaning over her small form. Petyr moved his fingers with hers, and masterfully removed her clothes. His breath hitched though, when he saw her breasts. They had doubled in size, and all he could do was stare. Sansa sat up, looking at him nervously; she began to cover her chest. Petyr's eyes held the unasked question, and Sansa squirmed out of his grip.

She started towards the table, pouring herself a glass of mare's milk. Petyr walked to wards her, his gaze not leaving her form. The room suddenly became smaller, and Sansa could feel her supper bubbling in her stomach; threatening to appear at any point. "What is going on?" Petyr's voice asked with suspicion. "I am not quite sure what you mean, Petyr," she replied, using his given name carefully. He stepped closer to her, a dangerous flash appearing in his eyes. That was when Sansa knew the contents of her stomach wouldn't stay there for very long. She quickly put her goblet down behind her, and ran through the doors to her right. The chamber pot was the only thing that caught her eye; she sprinted towards it, and doubled over heavily, vomiting. Little did she realise that Petyr tore after her as soon as she moved, he almost went unnoticed. She only took note of his presence when he pulled her hair over her head, and rubbed soothing circles in her back.

When nothing else was available for Sansa to expel violently, she sat back and was handed a cup of water by Petyr. She sloshed the liquid around her mouth, and spit it into the chamber pot. "I'm terribly sorry you had to witness such a vile thing, especially when you just returned," her small voice said. "Nonsense, 'tis a natural thing I suppose." She looked up, and was greeted by his awaiting hand; to which she took and pulled herself up. Petyr's hands met her waist, and Sansa could tell he would not let her go, until she spoke. He looked down at her, worry his eyes, as well as a hint of suspicion. "I don't know how to put this Sweetling. But, your breasts have increased in size remarkably. A growth spurt perhaps?" He asked, knowing full well that that wasn't the case.

Her face was blank, though her eyes shouted worry. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. "You didn't slip moontea into my drinks by any chance did you?" She said, her voice faltering. This was the first time Petyr's face was completely open, the shock was written all over his face. His lips were trying to form words, but all he managed were syncopated stutters. Sansa took all of her courage, and said loudly, looking into his eyes, "I'm with child, Petyr." His hands dropped from her waist, and he embraced her gently. His left hand laid on her stomach, as he smiled into her shoulder. "Thankyou," he said softly. Sansa brought her hands to his shoulders and gently pushed herself away, looking into his eyes. Her tears were the first thing he noticed, and her voice was just as shaky. "What are we going to do?" Petyr grabbed her face in his hands; and said simply, "We will get through this."

"Petyr, there is the other option, I'm sure it would be easy to just drink the tea and forget about this." His voice suddenly became hostile, and he stepped away from her. "You will not terminate my child. Hoster Tully did that once, and denied me of being a father, I will not have that happen again." He stated with finality. Sansa looked like she was going to cry again. "You mean that you want the baby?! I thought you didn't!" He returned to her again, and took her face into his hands. "I want it more than anything," he spoke softly and began to caress her face. "Shall we retire to bed?" She asked, and Sansa smiled weakly. The bed was warm, and Petyr was still wide awake thinking. 'I will be a father, I will have someone to cherish, as well as it's mother. No one will hurt them,' he thought. Sansa was sleeping, her deep breaths made her stomach rise and fall in rhythm. Petyr gently put his hand on top of her abdomine, and fell asleep, thinking about his oncoming child.

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Favourite and review people, favourite and review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey Guys!**

_So, I haven't had much love for this story yet. It would mean the world if you could write a review, so I can continue to update my story. I'm only doing this because I am not actually certain if anyone cares to read it!:( please review and look for my update soon! (Sorry for nagging!)_

_Much love, and my biggest hugs,_

_Emma xx_


	6. Chapter 6

The sunlight invaded Sansa's eyes, as her mind slowly began to come into focus. The windows were opened, and all that could be seen was blue sky; it wasn't snowing, which was a great thing for her. Maybe today she could see the rest of the Eyrie. Her attention drew to the emptiness of the bed surrounding her, and her hand moved to pat the bed where Petyr should have been. Her body involuntarily sat up, and her long limbs stretched forward, small cracks making themselves heard. Sansa stood and began to dress. The makeup and hair was quickly done, as she wouldn't be seeing anyone today; and Sansa began to walk to the Solar.

Petyr looked up from his parchment, quill in hand; and stood as soon as he saw Sansa. He walked around, and guided her to a chair. "How do you fair today?" He asked as she took her seat. "I am fine, although I do have something of import I think we should talk of." Sansa said, while Petyr sat in the chair he was previously in. He pushed the items that lay infringing of him to the side; and in return, he pushed the bowl of fruit across, now situated in front of them both. "As do I," he stated, as he began to cut a ripe pear. Petyr handed her half, which she took gratefully; and began to nibble on, the juices running down her chin, and being held by the powerful gaze of Petyr. He sat his piece down in front of him, and took a slow breath. "You must know that no-one can know of this child. I have my engagement to your aunt apparent, and it would send all sorts of unwanted talk through the Vale. Not one soul can know I have any natural children." He said calmy, the raspiness of his voice was heavy.

Sansa looked up, and let out a shaky breathe. "Petyr" she began slowly, "The, uh, the child, well, it might not be yours" she said, and looked down; focusing her attention on the half eaten pear on her plate. She could not see his expression, but his sharp intake of breath was all Sansa needed to make sure he heard her. "Who else have you been with? I have not been gone for long. Who was it?" He was getting angry. She looked up quickly, putting her hand atop his, "No, not anyone. But I was with Tyrion, you know that." Sansa stated, and waited for his reply. "No, the baby is mine. I know it is." Petyr stated simply, and Sansa looked into his eyes. "But, what if Tyrion finds out, if it is his, I shan't keep a child from him." His gaze turned cold, and he stood and walked to the fire, his back facing Sansa. "Why do you care about him?" He asked, though not turning to face his company. "He cared for me, at a time when no one else would. He protected me, and he is a good man." Sansa said indignantly, while walking towards where Petyr stood.

She put her hands on his shoulders, and leant her head around his neck; both looking into the fire. "I won't leave you, you shouldn't worry Petyr. But we do need to organise things about the child, what shall happen?" She asked, neither moved from where they were standing. His neck smelled of spiced wine and cinnamon, and Sansa leaned further into him. But Petyr did the unexpected, he shook her off, and stepped another step forward. "We will figure it out later." He said blankly. Sansa had overcome her shock from being dismissed, she turned quickly on her heel, and nudged the plate of the edge of the table. She began to hear it shatter, but it was drowned out by the sound of the heavy oak doors slamming.

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Sansa took herself to the courtyard; embedded in white snowflakes, the courtyard was the only place where she was at peace, and could be reminded of the past but not of the present calamity. Her heels dug into the shallow layer of snow, melting, just like her heart. How could he be so selfish? Petyr knew that she did have a life before him, and she did have a husband. Why couldn't he realise that a child, no matter of who's seed, would still be considered as a Lannister. If her husband found out, he would not stop searching for her, and Sansa could not tell if she liked that idea or not. She sat at a stone bench underneath a marble pillar, which was without white ice, yet still as cold as if it was present. With her hands in her lap, Sansa decided that she needed a break from him. She needed to think, without her thoughts being illustrated by her heart. So her feet led her to the chambers, and she locked the doors, pulling the rusty knob across, and securing both doors together. She returned to her bed and laid down, not bothering to close the window: the sharp bite of wind both cleansed her lungs and mind, yet no matter how hard she tried Sansa fell into a sullen sleep, but one that lasted much longer that usual.

Petyr was sitting at his desk, quill in hand, and paper afront. Yet his mind was far from reach. It had been a long night, and it was almost lunch. No appearance of Sansa, and lack of refreshments made the night even longer. But he sat through all the same. His mask was back up. Petyr was gone, and Littlefinger was back.

A sharp rapping on her door, awoke Sansa. Her fingers removed her sheets, and she hurried to the door. "Yes!" She answered. "I have your lunch m'lady! I came with breakfast, but I received no reply, may I come in!?" She yelled through the door. Sansa pulled back the handles to allow the young maid to enter; the maiden simply placed the tray of Lamprey pie on Sansa's table, and hurriedly left. The doors closed after her, and Sansa quickly locked them. Her hunger overtook her, and her manners were completely absent as she consumed her meal. This was the first time she had eaten alone, and Sansa had a feeling it wouldn't be her last.

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**READ THIS PLEASE!**

I can't apologise enough for the delay! I have been so busy! Anyway, Thankyou to all those who reviewed, it means more than you think.

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	7. Chapter 7

The afternoon was blank. Just like Sansa's emotions. She sat back in the chair which was placed so close to the fire, she thought she would burn; but Sansa did not move, she had cried for so long that she no longer felt anything. She had not seen Petyr since the fight, and now she began to wonder. Truly, what if the baby was Tyrions? She had calculated the dates, and the possibility of the baby being a Lannister was as even as the chance of it being Petyr's. Sansa thought, and thought; It was only when her brow began to moisten that she rose, and walked to her bedroom. She had decided.

Her clothes were packed, and she sat on the four poster bed; it's soft sheets were welcoming, but the memories that came with it, were not. She wouldn't go for very long, maybe, a week? Petyr would worry, she knew; but maybe that was best, maybe he did deserve to realise what she actually meant to him. Her clothes were packed in a bag, and her dark green cloak covered auburn hair, and her slim figure, now getting rounder at her stomach. The guards asked no questions when she left, nor did the guardsmen who lowered her down in the cart. Sansa paid them handsomely, to ensure their confidentiality. Her horse was white, and she strapped her bag next to its saddle, sitting atop and adjusting her reins. Sansa slowly moved forward.

Her first stop was the inn, not far from the Vale; it was damp, dark and mould infested. Sansa thought of visiting a nicer one, but did not want to draw too much attention to herself. Lowborn ladies did not have money to spend. Her bed was comfortable enough, with a few slats missing, and made out of cheap wood. Sansa sat, as the sun went down, and officially, spent her first night alone.

Petyr was scribbling heavily, though nothing of any value was being written. His quill was being strangled by a calloused and sore hand. It snapped, ink spluttering, and paper crumpling. He growled in frustration, but thought to himself, he will wait another day, and then visit. Make her wait.

Sansa's hands were turning purple as she dressed. The weather had had a noticeable decline since she left; though she was still going. After eating some porridge, and sipping mares milk, Sansa returned to her horse, and rode to her next destination. It was a little village, South-West of her location now, and as she travelled, she pondered as to the point of her journey. Sansa wanted to clear her head, that's all. Though she couldn't deny the silent wish to make Petyr worry, and realise. The horses trots were the only thing that could be heard from the deserted road, and Sansa took a deep breath of the fresh air.

The sounds of merry laughter brought her out of her haze. Gods! Her thoughts are lost to her more than they are with her. Sansa looked up, and saw the roofs of the cabins, as well as the bodies walking each and every way. She arrived to what she assumed was the stables, tied her steed to the fence, and have a gold dragon to the man who run the stable; telling him she would reside their for one night. Her bag was slung on her shoulder, as she took to her next inn. Sansa's belongings were placed in a room, to which she locked the door, and ventured downstairs. She was very hungry, and parched beyond belief!

"What can I get for ya?" The man behind the bar asked. His grey beard almost touched his belly, and the teeth of a peasant were apparent in his yellow gums. His kind personality made up for his lack of looks. "A bowl of stew, bread, and a mug of ale thankyou." She said pleasantly, to which she received a wild grin. "What brings you to these parts, miss...?" He asked, and before she could stop herself, she replied strongly. "Stark, Sansa Stark." He smiled even wider, which made Sansa understand. He didn't know her. She breathed heavily in relief as he replied, "Miss Stark, I'll bring ya' yer stew, pull up a chair!' He said as he walked away. Sansa was thankful he forgot she was supposed to tell him what she was doing around here.

She turned, and was surprised to find a man in her way. He had black hair, and was tall. Though he carried a sword, and was dressed in a pale yellow rag, Sansa could tell he was not lowborn. "M'lady! You are more than welcome to share a table with me!" He said, and pointed to one of the tables in the back right corner. Sansa trusted him, she didn't know why, but she walked back with him, and walked to one of the seats. He held it out for her, as Sansa removed her cloak. His eyes grew wide as her mid section was revealed, but it was quickly masked as he tucked her in. The man sat opposite her, and started a friendly conversation, whilst Sansa's meal was served. "You know my name, but I cannot say the same for you,' Sansa asked, as she sipped on her cup of ale, washing down her finished meal. "Well m'lady, many just call me whatever the feel like. But you can call me Bronn."

**Authors Note!**

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**Em xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Read, review and Love! Enjoy this chapter, and yes there will be more for this story, I do intend to finish it! Love em xx**

P.O.V of Bronn

M'lady is with child! Nothing could have surprised me more; the mere fact that Lady Sansa was at the inn as well was shocking alone, but she had been missing for ages - almost 5 moons! And to see her stomach grown and face flushed, I knew that she did not want people to know she was here. When Sansa left I followed behind at a safe distance, but where she turned north, I turned south. Tyrion must know. Not only that Sansa is alive, but that she is carrying a child. I sat in one of the carts and dropped a gold dragon in front of the driver saying 'Here is half, the rest will be given when I arrive at Kings Landing.' He seemed to appreciate it because what was there of his grin, turned into a full smile.

I must have fallen asleep, because the carriage was stopped and the driver was waiting patiently beside. I got up and found my balance on the rocky floor; looking up to find the entrance to Kings Landing. So many times have I traveled, I yet forget to tell myself how much I hate this place. Full of money grovellers, peasants, cheats and liars; Kings Landing never does bore me. As promised, I handed the driver the other gold dragon and began the slow walk towards Lord Tyrion's chambers. Met by the guards, and after a bit of explaining I was let by. And by the time I reached the stairs, I was in a fast run. His doors were closed, so I knocked loudly and the doors slowly creaked open.

'Bronn!' Tyrion yelled. 'What brings you back so quickly? Last I checked you were scouting the Vale for thieves for the Nights Watch.' I nodded slowly, and stepped forward closing the door behind me. 'I know, but, I found her.' I said. Tyrion who was sipping from his cup was now struggling not to choke; setting his drink down, he rushed forward towards me. 'You found Sansa?!' he urged, the look in his eyes contained both worry and fear. 'Yes, she was staying at Black Peak Inn near the Vale when I dined with her.' Tyrion sharply in took his breath. 'Sansa? At Black Peak? What did she say when you ate? Is she ok? Why is she there?' He babbled, to which I grabbed his shoulder. 'Calm yourself Tyrion! Sansa looked in good health, though she kept checking the door throughout her meal. She didn't seem to recognise me, and didn't mention why she was there.' I said, hoping to calm his nerves. 'Tyrion. You need to go get your wife, not only is she bound by law to be with you, but she is suspect in Joffrey's murder and her case does not look good as we speak. Especially with her absence.'

He nodded and walked to his desk, hands planted on the bare timber and eyes roaming the detailed map set before him. I though to myself, he should know. 'Tyrion, there's something else.' He looked at me questioningly, those eyes held a passion I could hardly believe. 'She's with child' I told him. I could see his shoulders slump, his head went into his hands and he sat down. 'What have I done' I heard him murmur to himself. I had to know, 'Is it possibly yours?' I asked. Tyrion nodded feebly, 'We did consummate the marriage.' He said, adding in quietly 'It was only once.' I was getting impatient, God knows what Sansa is doing, and Tyrion is acting like he got his favourite toy stolen. Much rushed forward and grabbed him in the shoulders.

'You need to go get her, she is your wife and possibly the mother of your child! Who knows what danger she is in?!' Tyrion agreed and stood quickly saying 'Prepare two horses, and a months worth of supply.' I agreed but something was missing. 'Tyrion, where are we going?' He looked at me as if that was a dumb question. 'Well, Sansa has no other living relatives, except one. Let's go visit Lady Lysa Arryn, maybe she had some answers to all of our questions.

Sansa

She gathered her things and was preparing to leave when she realised; She didn't know where she was going. Should she return to Petyr? He should definitely have guards looking about, it has been over a week. Maybe that was long enough? Sansa's days had been growing long, and her stomach had amazingly grown a lot in the past few days. Now it was visibly noticeable, even under a cloak! Her feet grew sore and her mind grew weary. It was time to head back, it had been long enough.

She packed her things on the back of her steed and climbed atop. Even riding was becoming difficult, this was definitely the best option. The horse move quickly, and so did the scenery. It altered from being abundant of green, to plentiful of white. The ground was now covered in ice, and the air grew nippy as she arrived at the bloody gate. The guards moved as soon as recognition was apparent, and Sansa climbed into the dumbwaiter, next to a crate of lemons. Ironic.

As she got higher up, she clung to the sides, and as she saw the top, began to stand. Sansa stood off, and pulled up her hood; wrapping her bags around her, she entered the castle. Slowly unpacking her bags, Sansa bathed and washed her hair, pulled it into an elaborate braid, and chose a figure gripping dress. She looked beautiful. Beautifully pregnant. What to do now? See Petyr. Sansa checked her appearance, and slowly walked to his solar; she entered wordlessly, but it didn't matter because the room was empty. Sansa sat on the chair near the fire, and waited for him.


End file.
